What the Darkness Hides
by Anonymous Someone
Summary: When an ambush leaves the Chotix near death during an investigation, Sonic and team set out to find the attacker. But they soon learn the agenda runs far deeper than they imagined, and that the the target may actually be one of them...
1. Prologue

Prologue: Escape

"Don't let it escape!"

The panicked shout echoed from every robot's internal command hub like a thunderclap. Instantly, each one stopped whatever task it was performing to receive data on the "it", automatically transmitted with the message. Schematics, visuals, text readouts, and every other data format imaginable was transferred to their processing nodes, along with a plot of the target's location, moving through the bases corridors, making its way steadily but with great speed out of the base. Then, chaos ensued as they dropped everything and attempted to comply, with disastrous results. Those handling volatile power cells were incinerated as the cells ruptured. Those hanging onto walls while making repairs were destroyed as they fell from great heights in their haste to obey. Others, the more fortunate, were either too far away or were caught in a mad struggle to exit rooms and were hopelessly entangled.

The unfortunate ones were the ones who actually found him.

Doctor Robotnik, who had just given the order, watched helplessly from the monitors as his robots were annihilated before his eyes. Metal limbs flew as they were severed by razor sharp blades. Headless robots crumpled as their necks were torn away. Some were untouched by the massacre, as their target appeared more intent on escape then on destruction. Battle units fired waves of missiles and lasers at the figure. Those without clawed helplessly at it in an attempt to slow it down. Many were destroyed by the incoming fire, further depleting their numbers.

"Idiots!" the scientists shrieked angrily. "Stop him!"

But before his order even registered, the majority of them were down, and the figure rounded a corner and went out of sight.

Emitting a steady stream of curses, he gave the security monitor a few taps on its display, bringing up the next set of cameras, where the same event played out almost comically again. He hurriedly inputted the commands to close the doors which would seal the base's corridors at twenty foot intervals, but the figure merely snagged a missile launcher from a fallen robot and blasted through the door like tissue paper.

_This could almost be funny_, he thought viciously, _if it wasn't happening to me. By god, what was I thinking?! Too much power..._

He stopped suddenly, a light bulb going off in his head. A ray of hope shining in his dark heart, he brought up the appropriate command structure and with a flurry of tapping keys, brought his idea to life. By rerouting the heat from his fusion core into the occupied corridor, he could fry the escapee no matter what tricks he pulled. He punched the final command in and pressed execute, but nothing happened. He froze for a moment, then cursed his own stupidity_. He still has the priority codes, damn him! He's already deactivated it. Dammit, I can't keep up with him._

_There's only one thing left to do_, he thought grimly.

The new defensive cannon, guarding the main entrance to the base, featured a full spread capable of covering the entire corridor. By realigning it with the interior of the corridor, rather than the entrance, however, he could destroy it as it rounded the corner. And since it was just installed, the only copy of the codes was on his personal computer, isolated from the main system, there was no chance of it being overridden. The only trouble is, fired into the base, it could potentially destroy an entire quadrant. But there was no other alternative, and it was a small price to pay for his destruction. He imputed the commands and folded his arms behind his head, leaning back with a smile. The cannon will fire exactly two seconds after he rounds that corner, long before he can get out of range, but long enough for him to see death coming. The red dot indicating the target drew closer to the cannon, pausing briefly to dispatch robots who still attempted to stop it, and Robotnik watched with satisfaction through the cannon's sights as the target rounded the corner.

To the untrained eye, it didn't appear to be much. A short, slim figure clad in a tight-fitting brown body suit. Less than a meter in height, yet wielding a long, dented blade nearly as long as it was tall. He lamented at the lost possibilities and felt a surge of regret as the cannon prepared to fire. Yet he never once moved to stop the sequence, and he smiled broader as the cannon's power reached critical.

He started forward, however, when the blade was suddenly flung with speed impossible for anything thrown by a normal creature, and sliced cleanly through the cannon's anchor, thirty feet away. The cannon, his last resort, fell to the ground, cut off from its power supply, only so much dead weight.

Robotnik screamed and hurled his monitor off his desk as he leapt over the wreckage and out of the base. He knocked the desk over and flung himself to his feet, chest heaving as he snarled insanely to the empty walls of his study. He merely stood there a moment, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Then he regained control, releasing the stored up breath in a sigh as the logical side took over._ No matter. I'll track him down eventually. The world's only so big, and even _he_ can't hide forever._

_Besides, I know _exactly_ where he's headed._


	2. Chapter I

Chapter I: Two Surprises

Sonic the Hedgehog, fastest being on Earth, savior of the world a dozen times over, and general overall protagonist, ran through the fields at top speed. His normally energetic and enthusiastic expression was twisted into a frown as he battered his memories. Running usually gave him a clear head, allowing him a better opportunity to think, but today he struggled with every brain cell he possessed.

"What is so important about today?" he wondered aloud.

He thought back to the morning, when Tails had come knocking on his door, expression beaming, hopping excitedly from foot to foot, tails whipping ecstatically. When Sonic asked him what he was doing there, the fox had looked surprised.

"Don't you know what today is?" he asked in a shocked voice.

"No." he replied in a baffled voice. "Why, should I?"

Tails merely sat for a moment, dumbfounded, then his face split into a grin and he turned on heel and scampered off. "Never mind!" he called back to the confused hedgehog.

Sonic wracked his brain for ideas, but came up empty. Isn't Christmas, because there's no snow. Isn't Halloween, leaves aren't brown yet. Isn't his birthday, because it was last month.

He probably would have gone through every holiday, but was interrupted by a loud beeping noise.

He skidded to a stop, head cocked to the side as he listened for the telltale buzz and clank of Eggman's machines. His eyes scanned the horizon, and he clenched his fists in preparation. What would it be? Flyers? Crawlers? Swimmers? Or maybe one of those monstrous machines he's so proud of. At just over a meter in height, with blue spikes spread behind him like some vast buzz saw, he didn't look like much, but he was ready to fight.

The beep sounded again, this time behind him.

He spun around, feet poised to hurl him into the air at the first sign of trouble. But there was no one there. He sat, confused and worried, wondering vaguely if he was hearing things, when the beep sounded again. This time, however, he recognized it, and gave himself a mental smack. Idiot.

He slid his backpack, full of food, water, and a bedroll in case he got lost or couldn't get back before night. He reached underneath them all and took hold of the culprit, a cell phone. Tails' from the look of it, very high tech and covered with gadgets of every kind, even what looked like a cutting laser. It rung in his hand and he opened it, wondering how it had come to be in his pack as he brought it to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

"Sonic!" cried Tails from the speaker. "You've got to come quick! Someone broke into your house and took the chaos emerald!"

"What?!" he exclaimed, thinking of all of the possible scenarios in his mind. Robotnik, or perhaps Rouge. No, definitely Rouge. Robotnik would have torched the place. "Stay there!" he ordered, "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, Sonic. But hurry!"

Sonic tossed the phone into the pack and quickly strapped it back on and sped back to his home.

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As he approached his house, Sonic had to admit he could have done better with it. Everyone always said so, and upon seeing the plain, wooden cabin, he couldn't help but agree. Tails' has a hangar. Knuckles' can fly. He probably could have topped that. He ran to the door, which was sturdy pine and slightly ajar, and flung it open.

"Surprise!"

He jumped at the sudden exclamation then looked around in shock. Everyone was there: Knuckles, Tails, Cream and Cheese, the entire Chaotix team, and a few of his nearby neighbors. Even Rouge, sitting on a rafter in the ceiling, sipping a glass of punch. On the far side, sitting on a long, wooden table, was a cake, and Sonic gave a wry grin as he finally remembered what day it was.

"Happy birthday, Sonic!"

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The cake was cut. The candles blown out. The presents opened. He sat now, surrounded by his friends, gifts lying on the table. A pair of hovering shoes from Tails sat waiting for their test run. Vector, Espio, and Charmy gave him a leather jacket, complete with holes tailored to fit his spines. Cream and Cheese gave him a box of homemade treats. Even Rouge had kicked in, giving him a modest, gleaming red stone that glittered when held up to the light. Knuckles, however, had surprised them all with an intricately wrought statue, depicting Sonic tearing through a robot with Eggman shrinking back in terror. When asked about it, he merely shrugged and gave an embarrassed smile.

He sat back, taking a long drink of the punch. Tails sat beside him, practically hopping out of his seat as he apologized. "Sorry Sonic. But I thought it would be fun since you kinda forgot and all."

"S'all right." he replied with a grin. "Little surprises are good for the soul, ya know."

"Ya, guess you're right."

Across the room, Knuckles and Vector teased each other good-naturedly. "So you finally got work?" asked Knuckles in mock surprise. "God help your employer."

"Well excuse me, mister fooled-half-a-hundred-times-by-Eggman." shot back Vector with a smile. "I'll have you know the government's hired us to look into the Mayor's death."

Knuckles whistled, face showing genuine surprise. "Pretty high profile case there. Didn't they say he was stabbed and poisoned or something."

"Ya, they say it was probably a knife dipped in venom, or something like that. Couple of the guards dead too, same thing. No one knows who's done it, and they don't have any footage of him."

"I thought City hall in Station Square was supposed to have the most secure camera network in the city."

"It does." admitted Vector, "But they don't have anything on him. Like it was some kinda ghost."

"Any leads?" asked Knuckle's curiously.

"Ya, just a second." he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a clear plastic box, containing a single leaf. "Apparently, they think he left this behind. From his shoe or something."

Knuckles leaned over it, eyes narrowing. "Great redwood. Pretty rare around here. But I heard there was a successful transplant into the Green woods north of town. You might check it out."

He nodded, then broke off as Espio whispered in his ear. He gave a start then nodded and Espio waved Charmy over and the headed for the door.

"Leaving already?" asked Knuckles in surprise.

"Ya," said Vector grimly, "Same kind of poison and same knife used to kill someone else earlier this month. Looks like we may be onto a serial killer."

"Someone else?" He gave a puzzled frown. "Not someone I've heard about."

"I'd be very surprised." Commented Espio as he walked by. "Looks like some nobody from the factory district. Hardly a high profile character."

"And you think they might be connected?" Asked Knuckles dubiously.

"Yes." said Espio simply, then made his way to the door.

"Sorry to have to leave," apologized Vector, "but this really is our most important case right now, and we really need some publicity if we're going to get any more."

Knuckles nodded knowingly. With a solid reputation for getting to the bottom of the wrong mystery at the wrong time, few were willing to hire the Chaotix, but that might change if they got the word out.

Vector shrugged apologetically, then opened the door and left.

Sonic, who was still trying to explain to Tails that he really wasn't angry with him, didn't notice their departure.

"Listen," he explained to his friend, "It's no big deal, and you did pretty good with it. All and all not a bad party. At least you had the good sense not to invite Amy."

Tails made a face. "I figured you'd feel that way. I told everyone not to say a word about it, and it looks like-"

The door, which had closed only a minute or so ago, was nearly ripped off its hinges as an enormous hammer struck it with titanic force. A second later, it crashed open as it was struck again, revealing Amy the hedgehog, dressed in her customary pink attire and wielding her enormous mallet.

She didn't look happy.

"Sonic!" she screeched, flailing the hammer menacingly, and the crowd parted, revealing a very apprehensive hedgehog sitting next to a suddenly vacant chair."

"H-hi Amy." he stammered, forcing a smile that didn't quite mask the terror.

"You think I wouldn't find out about this!" she advanced slowly, hammer cocked back like a baseball bat, eyes intent on her self proclaimed boyfriend."

"Listen, Amy, not my fault." he assured her as he backed away, hands held in a pacifying manner before him. "Honest! It was all Tai-"

He broke off suddenly and dived to the floor as the hammer passed through the vacant space he had recently occupied. Then he darted through the crowds and out the door, hammer in pursuit.

--------------------------------------------

"Because of a leaf?" demanded Espio irritably.

"Yep." replied Vector smartly, "But not just any leaf. A great redwood leaf."

"And?" asked Charmy glumly, who clearly had preferred the party.

"And, according to Knux, the only one even near the city is a single tree transplanted here, in this forest, twenty years ago. That's it over there, see?" he pointed over the treetops, indicating what appeared to be a solid column of wood, reaching up to claw at the sky.

"Still," persisted Espio, "It could have come from anyone. And even if it did come from here, what guarantee do we have there's even anything to find here?"

Vector grimaced. "You do have a point there." He admitted, "But it's also our only clue to solving this case, unless there was anything from that murder you told me about before we left."

Espio shook his head. "No, not a thing. Cut by a knife with the same poison we found in the mayor."

Vector frowned. "Cut, but not stabbed? That seems somewhat out of character for a guy that could do what we saw at the Mayor's office."

When they'd been called in to investigate (to be honest, quite a surprise to them), It was readily apparent that the mayor and his bodyguards had been killed with a knife, which, for added insurance, had been dipped in poison. Each one had been suitably diced up, then stabbed once through the heart each. Vector barely held his lunch down. Charmy didn't.

"True, but the man died in the middle of a plaza with dozens of witnesses. The poison, though, could have been administered anywhere from where he started to when he died. If the murderer had been caught with a knife sticking out of the guy, it wouldn't exactly have been subtle."

Vector nodded thoughtfully. "And the poison?"

"A compound known as Dragon Sweat. It's very rare, since it comes from one plant on one island on the other side of the world, but its also one of the fastest and most lethal toxins in the world. The dose used to coat a kitchen knife might run you several thousand at least. Also," he noted absently, "The guards also had a sedative called Tilfin in their blood, which, while more common, is quite powerful. A dose of it could easily knock someone cold in under five seconds, and a strong dose could keep them comatose for days, even weeks, if it didn't kill them first."

"Two poisons on the same knife?" Vector asked dubiously.

"Or two poisons on two knives." Suggested Espio. "One to subdue, and one to finish them off."

"But what are we doing out here?" interrupted Charmy. "What are we lookin' for?"

"Dunno, Charms. Why don't ya take a look from up there for us an' see if there's somethin' out of place."

"Like what?"

Vector shrugged. "Anything. If you don't see it immediately, it's probably not worth noting. Now hop to it."

"Aye aye, sir." Charmy bunched his knees, then shot up into the air.

Right into a low hanging branch.

Espio covered his eyes and shook his head as Charmy tumbled through the air, then righted himself and shot off.

"Someday," he muttered, "He'll hit something harder than that head of his."

"That'll be the day." Vector said wistfully. He looked over at the chameleon. "How's did your meeting with Coffin go."

"Coffin", who's actual name was Brian Sans, was the leading coroner for the Station Square Police Department. Naturally, as the Mayor was a high-profile victim, they called in a high profile scientist. Espio had met with him that morning for a more detailed analysis of the evidence.

"Very productive." Espio replied, " I was able to confirm the shape of the murder weapon."

"And?"

He pulled out a small notepad, scanning briefly over it. "The weapon," he read, "Was long and sharp, probably a specialized blade, approximately 14 inches long and one to one-and-a-half inches thick. Straight, rigid, probably metal, but not in any style I've ever heard of." He looked up at Vector. "A custom job, I'd say. What do you think?"

Vector shrugged. "You're the ninja. I'm just the brains. You bring me the info, I connect the dots." He paused. "Speakin' of connecting, you find anything linking the mayor to that other guy."

Now it was Espio's turn to shrug. "Not that I could find. Which is strange, since these cases are obviously connected." He shook his head. "But while the mayor was definitely a high level target, the cost to the killer for this other guy was probably more than he made in a year."

"But there must be something!" persisted Vector. "Maybe they-" he broke off as Charmy winged in, passing inches in front of his face before alighting lightly on the ground. He hopped up and down, wings buzzing wildly, and he clearly was excited about something.

"I found something!" he declared jubilantly.

Vector blinked. Clearly, he hadn't expected Charmy to find anything. "What's up?" he asked curiously.

Charmy flung out an arm, pointing excitedly down the trail. "There's a fire. Down that way."

Vector looked over at Espio, who returned his look with interest. "You're sure about that?" he asked the bee.

"Ya. Whoever it is is trying to hide it, but I definitely saw it all right."

Vector felt himself dare to hope. This might be the clue he was hoping to find! They might even find something that could break the case. Then again, it was more likely just some dumb campers from the city. But surely even they knew the forest was dangerous after dark, and it would be dusk in just a few hours. Which meant they might want to leave too He cast a glance at Espio, who merely shrugged. _I guess it's up to me_. He thought wryly.

"Let's go."

--------------------------------------------

Instantly, Sam was alert. _Someone was coming!_ he realized wildly. He threw off his blankets, then sped out of the lean-to, dealing a swift kick to the support as he. Instantly it collapsed, covering the small den he had built for himself. He grabbed the sod rolled neatly to one side, which he had excavated the day before, and rolled it over the top, creating an almost seamless disguise. He darted to his fire, where his dinner sizzled happily, fresh fish, straight from the river. He quickly doused the fire with his bucket of water, then rolled a piece of sod over it as well. He looked around, pausing briefly to secure his rifle, then sprinted out of the clearing at top speed. He hurled the wooden bucket, which he had painstakingly constructed with his own hands, against a tree, shattering it into pieces.

He spent five precious seconds, scanning the ground for evidence of his occupation, then clambered up a nearby tree, which. About halfway up, he paused to catch his breath, cursing the limitations his frame imposed on him. He was about to take hold of the next branch, then froze as he spotted them.

_Well, well, well. What do we have here_? He shifted almost imperceptibly, then brought the scope of his rifle up to his eye. Through it, he saw the Chaotix approach, Charmy in the lead with Vector and Espio fighting to catch up. _So it's not him, _he realized with a sigh of relief_, but it hardly matters. I can't let anyone report back my position. Especially them_. He observed them calmly for a moment, then his eyes alighted on Charmy. _If they catch on, he's definitely got to go first_. _Smallest target and the most able to make a high-speed escape. But hopefully it won't come to that._

He settled comfortably, took careful aim, and waited.

-----------------------------------------------

As they filed into the clearing, Espio felt his eyebrows rise.

He sighed. "All right Charmy, what's the big idea."

The bee stared in shock at the bare clearing, eyes wide. "But it was here! I swear!" he darted frantically around, head whipping frantically from side to side as he looked for the fire that wasn't there.

"You're sure?" demanded Vector skeptically.

"Ya, positive." He assured him. He sped over to boulder, some five feet tall, with a strange crystal formation on the top. "I saw this rock when I was lookin' around. It was right over here."

Vector rolled his eyes. "Couldn't there have been another rock, Charms?"

Charmy paused a moment. "I guess there could have been." He admitted doubtfully. "But I'm sure it was this one. Ya gotta believe me, Boss."

Vector frowned, taking a long, steady look around. "I don't see anything. I think you might have been seeing things, Charms." He gave him a hard look, then sighed. "But if you're sure, we could at least take a look around."

Espio gave a meaningful look at the setting sun, which was already beginning to cast an orange glow on the trees. "It's getting late, Vector. We really don't have that much time to spare."

"One quick look won't hurt."

-------------------------------------------

_Go ahead Croc_, urged Sam silently_, hurry up and find nothing so you can be going on your way_. His thoughts swept briefly over the case he'd left under the lean-to, cursing himself for not taking it with him, but realizing he hadn't had enough time to secure it. As long as they don't find it_, he assured himself, _I should be fine.

--------------------------------------------

Five minutes later, the sun had sunk even lower on the horizon, yet still they'd turned up nothing. Charmy stared glumly at the ground, face red with embarrassment. He'd wasted their last bit of daylight pursuing a dead end. He felt his face heat as the cruel taunts he'd heard from people on the street came back to him.

"Aren't those guys from that stupid detective agency?"

"Ya, sure looks like em. Bunch of losers if you ask me!"

"Screw ups!"

"Couldn't find an apple in a bucket o' water!"

A hand fell on his shoulder, interrupting his brooding. He looked up to see Espio, eyes concerned. "You okay?" he asked lightly.

Charmy nodded unhappily.

Espio gave an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about it, kid. It's no the first time this has happened. It's not as if we really expected to find anything anyway." He gave the bee a slap on the shoulder. "It's getting late. We still have enough time to run in and snag a pizza, if you want. My treat."

Charmy perked up a bit at that, even though he knew it was meant to cheer him up. After all, he was just a kid. He gave a weak smile.

"That's the spirit." He looked over his shoulder at Vector, who stood frowning at the ground some distance away. "C'mon Vector, let's go."

"Ya, just a second."

Espio nodded, then turned and made his way toward the edge of the clearing, Charmy following behind him. Vector made as if to follow, then stopped suddenly. He lifted his snout up, sniffing the air curiously. He frowned, then bent over so his nose hovered a few inches off the ground. He gave another sniff, then blinked as he noticed a nearly invisible line in the grass, too straight to be natural, running along the ground. He looked closely at it, then slid a claw into the crack. To his surprise, the entire line shifted minutely.

"Hey, guys! Take a look at this!"

-------------------------------------------

_Ah crap_! snarled Sam silently.

-------------------------------------------

They huddled around the hole, where the strip of sod had been pulled back to reveal the fire ring, with the fish half-buried in ash. Vector gave a disgusted look, gesturing at the previously concealed evidence. "Right there the whole time." he snarled. "If I hadn't caught a whiff of the fish at the last second, we never would have found it." He gave Charmy an apologetic look. "Sorry to have doubted ya buddy. Good work."

"It's nothing, Vector." He replied modestly, but he stood up a little straighter at the compliment.

Espio leaned over, eyes intent. "This fire was recent. _Very_ recent. I doubt it was doused more than a few minutes before we arrived here." He straightened. "And if they hid their fire…"

"They might have hid something else." Completed Vector grimly. He looked around at the grass, searching for the telltale lines. "Spread out!" he ordered, "look for more of these holes."

-------------------------------------------

"Shit! "Cursed Sam, allowing that one to spill quietly beyond his lips. _The damned fish! _He realized incredulously_. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Oh please don't let them find the-_

-------------------------------------------

"Over here!" Espio declared, pulling back the sod that covered the shelter. "I've found another one!"

The gathered quickly, and he put a finger to his lips, then slowly faded away as he blended into the surroundings. They waited as he made his way slowly into the structure, then emerged, dusty, but visible, a few seconds later. "Empty." He informed, though a smile slid across his normally neutral expression. "But it looks like our guy was here after all. Check it out." He carefully hefted a large plastic case. Metallic gray and nearly thirty inches across, it looked like an oversized briefcase. He popped it open to reveal what looked to be a tool kit and several phials of different colored liquids. "I'd have to have Coffin do an analysis, but I'm guessing that this is our guy's stuff."

"Score!" shouted Charmy, pumping his fist into the air.

Vector nodded, a smile growing across his face. Perhaps they'd finally gotten a break. He opened his mouth to congratulate them, but something caught his eye. "Hey, Espio," he asked with a frown "isn't that case kinda big for just some bottles?"

Espio started, then examined the box carefully. "Now that you mention it, I think you're right. The side in front is far too thick." He hefted the case experimentally and his eyes narrowed. "And it's awfully heavy besides." He carefully laid it on the ground, then took the bottles out carefully, one by one, careful to make sure there were no cracks in them before setting them on the grass. Once he'd removed them all, he carefully ran his hands over the case, exploring each corner of the side in question.

"What're you lookin' for, huh Espio?" asked Charmy, face puzzled.

"He's looking for a compartment, Charmy." Vector answered quietly. "Something else hidden in the case."

"Aha!" exclaimed Espio triumphantly, prying back the plastic to reveal a small metal case. "Found it! Hid it under the seams. And looky here." He gestured disdainfully at the lock, a simple four-digit combination. He pulled out a shuriken, seemingly from nowhere, and pried carefully at the lock. A few seconds later it popped off and he opened the box a crack with a grand flourish. He smiled cockily, then glanced inside. Immediately, the smile slid off.

"What is it?" asked Vector curiously.

Espio didn't answer, but instead flipped the lid completely off, revealing the contents. Vector's eyes widened, and he reached out a hand gingerly to cradle one of the enormous jewels. "Are these what I think they are?"

"Chaos emeralds." Espio stood up suddenly then began to pace, eyes intent. "Four of them."

"But how?" asked Vector, stunned. "We know where all of the emeralds are!" he held up a hand and began ticking them off on his fingers. "Sonic has one, Tails has one, Rouge stole that one from Knuckles, and we know Robotnik has two. We never found out where one is, and the only other one is in-" He broke off suddenly, eyes wide."

"City Hall."

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Sam sighted down the rifle, expression mournful as he took sighted in on his target. _Sorry, bee boy_. he apologized, _Nothing personal, but I have to complete my mission._

-------------------------------------------

The only warning they had was a loud whistling noise. Then Charmy pitched forward with a cry, clawing at the dart protruding from his neck. A few moments later, he collapsed.

Espio sprung into action, scooping Charmy off the ground and hurling him under the lean-to before diving under it himself. Vector was a little slower off the mark, but almost managed to reach the lean-to in time. But just as he entered, a dart coughed from Sam's rifle and stuck his calf. His momentum, however, still brought him under the lean-to before another dart could be fired.

It was crowded under the small structure, but they freed as much room as possible and lay Charmy on the soft ground. Feeling with his hands, Vector eventually found the dart, then pulled it slowly from out of his skin before giving it a sniff. "Tranquilizer." He stated with relief. "He'll wake up in a few hours with a headache, but he should be fine."

"Me too." Grunted Vector as he pulled the second dart from his leg, already feeling his mind beginning to cloud.

"Don't worry." Espio assured him in a calm voice, thankful that the darkness hid his true feelings. "I'll call for help." He pulled his phone out and flipped it open, dialing furiously.

"Too late." Vector gasped drowsily, eyes drooping. "Get out while you still can."

Espio ignored him, finishing the number and holding it to his ear.

----------------------------------------------

Back at the party, things had definitely wound down. So had Amy, for that matter. She sat on the floor with Cream and Cheese, playing a board game. Rouge hadn't moved, swooping down every once and a while to refill her cup of punch, all the while observing them with an amused expression. At the table, Sonic and Knuckles watched intently as Tails simultaneously gulped down a grape soda and disassembled Sonic's toaster with a blindfold across his eyes.

Knuckles smiled confidently. "He's not gonna make it, Sonic."

Sonic smiled back. "Don't be so sure, Knucklehead." He answered with equal confidence. "I can already feel your money burning a hole in my pocket."

Knuckles shook his head. "No offense to Tails, Sonic," he contested, "But I don't think even he can-" he broke off with a start as the Toaster suddenly gave a buzz, then another, then began to play a blurry, but still recognizable County song. Tails took the last sip of the bottle, then, lips smacking, set it lightly on top, which instantly cleared up the signal.

Sonic glanced down at his watch in mock surprise. "Wow, wouldn't you know it! Exactly fifty-eight seconds. Guess I won, huh Knux."

Face sour, Knuckles tossed a few bills on the table, then, at Sonic's expecting glance, tossed down a few more. "Honestly," Knuckles muttered bitterly, "I don't see how he does that."

Tails smiled secretly. "Super powers." He said cryptically, uncapping another bottle.

Sonic chuckled. "Ya, that's for sure. I've never seen anyone with Take-Knuckles'-Money vision."

Knuckles' flushed, then opened his mouth to rebut, but stopped as his phone rang suddenly. He pulled it out angrily, flipping it open and setting it to his ear. "What do you want?" he snarled.

"Knuckles!" came the loud reply.

He blinked. "Espio? What-"

"No time!" interrupted Espio. "We need help! We're pinned down, and both Charmy and Vector are down!"

"What?" exclaimed Knuckles shooting to his feet. "How did it happen? No, Where are you?"

"Green forest, about five hundred yards southwest of that tree you told Vector about."

Knuckles nodded absently. "Okay, I'll be right there. Hold on!"

"Thanks." Espio sighed into the phone. "We can't get out, and if he-"

There was a crash, and Espio gave a scream of pain.

"Espio!" Shouted Knuckles into the receiver, voice panicked.

There was a cough. "Kn-knuckles." The voice was weak, weary, fading. "Help. Thief.

E-e-emeralds. Can't-"

Then the line went dead

-----------------------------------------

Sam snarled as he pulled his knife out of the phone, now barely recognizable, only so much plastic and wiring. "Not fast enough." He muttered darkly. He looked around at the Chaotix, Vector and Charmy limply lying under the lean-to, which had been slashed open, and Espio, a small stab wound cut into his shoulder where Sam had jabbed through the lean-to's top. He sighed, then turned to his case, picking up a blue-colored liquid. "This will do nicely." He said cheerfully to himself. He frowned. _I've got to stop doing that_, he told himself, _Inner monologue is much safer._

He carefully opened the bottle and began to fill a prepared needle, but paused, feeling the alien feeling of regret staining his mind. _Is it really necessary for me to do this?_ He asked himself. _After all, they were just unlucky. You don't have to-_

He forced the thoughts away and quickly regained control. _They've seen the objective. It doesn't matter the circumstances_. Never the less, he carefully recapped the bottle and took another from his case. _This will do just as well, _he assured himself. _But I'll have to make it look a little more convincing._

-----------------------------------------

Some twenty minutes later, Sonic burst into the clearing, Knuckles and Tails close behind.

"You're sure this is the right place?" he asked the echidna.

Knuckles didn't answer. He brushed past Sonic as if he wasn't there, looking around the clearing quickly. "Espio!?" he shouted, eyes searching. "Vector!? Charmy!?"

There was no answer. Sonic made as if to speak, then stopped, instead giving the air a strong sniff. He frowned, then turned to Tails. "You smell that?"

Tails paused, sampling the air, then nodded, face confused. "What is that?" he asked.

Knuckles smelled it as well. His face paled, and he turned back toward them, eyes wide. "It's blood. Lots of it." He inhaled deeply, then turned to face a regular looking patch of ground. "Over there!" he exclaimed, already moving toward it. The others looked at each h other for a moment, then followed after him.

As he approached the spot, the scent became more pronounced, and he began to feel more than a little afraid. He looked down, then noticed a small patch of dirt where a corner of the lean-to had dislodged the sod. Pulling back his fist, he drove it into the structure, which burst under the massive blow, revealing what lay beneath. He hissed as the grisly sight appeared before him, drawing back unconsciously.

With a cry, he dove into the hole, heedless of the red liquid that squelched beneath his feet. He dropped to his knees beside Vector, the closest one, and he gasped. He whirled back around to the others, who stood dumbly next to the hole. "They're alive!" he shouted with relief. "Sonic, call for an ambulance! Hurry!"

-------------------------------------------------

The atmosphere in the waiting room for Adrian's Anthro-Veterinary Hospital was distinctly dark. Cream, who had insisted on coming, despite their protests, sat quietly, cuddling Cheese comfortingly as she stared at the door across the hall. Amy sat next to her, seemingly near tears. Beside her, Tails and Sonic stared at floor, expressions grim. Aside from Knuckles, who paced nervously in front of them, they were the only ones who had actually seen them before they were admitted, and they knew that the amount of blood they saw was near lethal.

Adrian's Hospital, while not the only Anthro-Vet Hospital in the city, was by far the best, and their patients were generally either rich or famous. Sonic, who was of course quite well known, was quickly assured that everything would be taken care of. A half dozen nurses and an intelligent-looking doctor had quickly wheeled them into the room, and they waited patiently (or not) for the news to arrive.

Amy turned unhappily to Sonic, eyes pleading. "They'll be alright, won't they Sonic?"

Sonic gave an encouraging smile, then gave her a thumbs up. "They'll be just fine," he answered optimistically, "Just you wait." But as he turned away from her, his eyes were unsure.

They all gave a start as the door suddenly opened. The doctor strode out, generic white coat hanging off his shoulders as he strode into the room. Thin and aging, he sported a thick, bushy beard, graying with age, but the eyes held a great deal of wisdom. Yet now, they seemed confused, yet relieved at the same time. Immediately, they all stood at once, bombarding him with questions before he could open his mouth.

There was a sudden smack, and they turned to see Knuckles, fists crashing against each other with deafening bangs. He glared at them. "One at a time." he grated, expression angry, but the fear obvious in his eyes.

They looked at each other nervously, then back at the doctor, who adjusted his glasses dramatically before speaking. "We've made a thorough examination of them." He spoke quietly, his voice soft, reassuring. "And we have them stabilized for the time being."

There was a great sigh among the listeners, who felt a vast sense of relief at the proclamation.

"But," the doctor continued, "that's not all." He looked down at his clipboard flicking through the pages briefly. "They're blood pressure is low, dangerously so, and their heart rates as well, which is the only reason why they're still alive." He scratched his face, flushing. "And, while, it's quite embarrassing to say so, we don't really know why. We've given them transfusions to replace what they've lost, but until we know what's causing it, there's really nothing I can do."

"So they're not awake?" asked Cream sadly.

The doctor shook his head. "They appear to be in some sort of hibernation. Everything's working, but very slowly, and until we figure out what's wrong, I think it's likely to remain that way." He gave them an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but there really is nothing we can do at this time except hope for the best."

"That's all right, doctor." Said knuckles, expression dead as his tone. "We know you've done all you could. But what should we do now?"

The doctor stroked his beard thoughtfully. "That's a difficult question." he admitted. "I've heard that certain toxins can induce this sort of state, but it will take some time to determine if that's the case from the samples we've taken. If you could identify the toxin perhaps, we could accelerate treatment, but to do that, you'd probably have to find whoever did this to them."

Sonic suddenly grinned. "Sounds like a plan." He declared excitedly.

Knuckles, face set, turned to him. "I for one would like to pay this bastard back for what he did."

"Me too!" said Tails.

"I'll help too." offered Amy.

"Well, um." The doctor continued, face flustered. "If you were planning on that kind of action," he dipped into pocket of his coat and pulled out a small, round metallic object. "We found this in the crocodile's pocket. Does it mean anything to-" He broke off with a start as Tails jumped up and snatched it from his hand. He rolled it over in his hands a moment, eyes narrowing.

"It's a recording device." He flicked a switch on the side, and it a red light on one side blinked on as a tiny speaker on the device began to play.

_"Well_," began a voice, distorted and tinny, "_It seems you've found my little message in a bottle. Which means you found your little friends in the woods. Don't worry, I made sure not to kill them. For now._" The voice chuckled. "_After all, If I did, the game would already be over, and that's no fun."_

"Cocky bastard!" snarled Knuckles, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

_"But I'm sure you're all eager to talk to me face to face. I'm certain I can accommodate you. But be careful what you wish for, my friends. You might not like what you find_." There was a pause_. "Oh and one more thing. If one of you is holding this, I'd drop it if I were you."_

They merely stared at it for a moment, then Tails dropped the device with a start. "Ow!" He cried loudly. The device fell and struck the ground, then suddenly began to glow white with intense heat. A few seconds later, It spread across the tile in a molten pool, completely destroyed.

----------------------------------

"Ow!"

The cry sounded through the receiver, and Sam chuckled. _The hook is baited. Time to reel it in._


	3. Chapter II

Chapter II: Tough Luck

Tails sat glumly at the desk inside of his workshop. Around him, bits and pieces of various projects were strewn in a half-hazard manner, covering most of the floor. His computer, which he had built himself, took up an entire corner of the vast hangar, with a monitor that was nearly twice as tall as him. Right now, it was a blur of figures as it ran yet another analysis of the ruined recorder, which lay in a clear plastic box next to the screen. Tails sighed as the computer finished its work, an anticlimactic "Analysis Completed" appearing on the screen. He lazily gave his keyboard a few taps, bringing up the results.

Tests of the various compounds had revealed nothing helpful, and none actual technology remained intact. In essence, another dead-end. He tried to feel frustrated, but didn't quite manage it. It'd been nearly three days since the Chaotix's near-death encounter, and he had only managed a few broken hours of sleep. At this point, he was simply too tired to care.

He leaned back in his seat, a metal chair-like contraption he'd also built himself, wondering if any of the other's had had more luck. Sonic had left almost immediately to search the forest for clues. Knuckles had devoted his time to meeting with several of Espio and Vector's contacts, hoping to find out something that might point them in the right direction. Amy had buried herself in the Agency's records, looking for anything that might lead them to the attacker. Yet so far, nothing had surfaced.

He finally found a little emotion and managed to glare at the bead of metal that was their only solid evidence. Every sort of test he could run, on the metal case (Aluminum), the wiring (copper), even the radiation levels (normal) had turned up nothing conclusive. It was small, about the size of a marble, but for all he knew, could have been from anywhere, made by anyone. Absolutely nothing could be determined that might help.

With a weary sigh, he turned from the computer, gazing longingly at his plane, the Tornado. It's four fins spread out like the wings of a dragonfly, with the cockpit on top, and a small jet engine attached to the back. Colored blue to match Sonic, but with a unique two-tailed emblem on the back fins, it was one of his favorite creations, and almost as fast as Sonic was. He imagined himself at the controls, soaring through the open air, with the wind on his fur as he streaked through the sky.

_No. Not until this is all over. Not until we've found out who did this._

He turned back toward his desk, fully prepared to run yet another futile test. But before he could even touch his keyboard, someone knocked lightly on his door_. He turned to look at the clock. Past nine. Who'd be here at this hour?_

The knock came again. Laboriously, he hauled his aching body out of the chair, wincing as he felt his joints pop in protest. He tottered over to the door, trying to revive his numb limbs. As he reached the door, he turned toward the small screen next to the door and pressed a small button below it. The screen blurred to life, displaying a video feed from just outside the door. Standing on his doorstep, a young human. Tails squinted, taking in the slim build, the untidy hair, the thick glasses, the plain grew sweater and pants.

_Who's he?_

Curiosity won out over caution. He opened the door to stare with tired eyes at the human, who stood half again as tall as him, but short by human standards. Barely over a meter and a half tall, he blinked his eyes owlishly at the fox, temporarily blinded by the light from within.

"Are you Miles Prower?" He asked hesitantly.

Tails cocked his head quizzically. "Do I know you?"

The human shook his head. "No, I don't believe we've met. Actually, I'm looking for a Mr. Knuckles, but I can't find his address. I've heard you're a friend of his."

Tails nodded. "I am. But I'm not sure where he is now. I haven't seen him for several days. Do you know him?"

Once again the human shook his head. "Actually, he gave me a call earlier this week, asking for information on the Mayor's murder case. I've been trying to get back to him."

Tails gave himself a shake, trying to clear the weariness from his mind. "Oh. Right. You must be one of Agency's contacts then. What's your name?"

"Brian Sans." He introduced himself. "I work in the city morgue." He gave Tails a studious glance. "You're younger than I expected."

Tails felt a thread of resentment worm its way into his mind. "I'll have you know I'm-"

Brian held his hands up defensively. "Sorry. I don't think that came out the way I meant it. Trust me, I'd be one of the last ones to be talking about age. I'm only nineteen myself."

Tails blinked. "Aren't humans usually in college at that age?"

He shrugged. "I skipped a few grades. Anyway, Espio told me once in passing that you know a thing or two about Chaos Emeralds."

Tails nodded.

"Then maybe you can help me. Do you mind if I come in?"

--------------------------------------

"He gave me a call about three days ago."

They sat down at a short table Tails only used when he had company. Despite his size, Brian had to struggle to stay in his chair, which was not meant to accommodate his species. Each nursed a cup of coffee, brewed fresh no more than three days ago. While Tails took his black, the human dumped spoon after spoon of sugar into his cup before taking a drink.

"I met with Espio earlier that morning. I gave him a few tidbits of information, but nothing came up until we got a hit on the poison used on the mayor. Came back tot he murder of a construction worker two months ago. I passed this along to Espio that afternoon, and that was the last I heard of him."

"What did you find out about the poison?"

"There were two, actually. One is a strong toxin, which is almost universally lethal unless the antidote is administered within three minutes. The other was a nerve agent that disrupts the flow of signals in the brain, leaving the victims comatose for days, even longer. Which leads me to believe it was the same one who killed the mayor also attacked them."

"Is there an antidote?" asked Tails hopefully.

Brian shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. If the victim survives the initial dose, the compound runs its course after a time without any permanent damage."

Tails' face fell. "So we have to wait until they wake up?"

"Maybe not." contested Brian, causing the fox to blink. "When he called, Knuckles also asked me to check on the Chaos Emerald in the Vault." He dug into one of his pockets, emerging with a cloth-wrapped bundle. He gingerly held it out to Tails, who carefully took hold of it. He pulled back a corner and gasped before allowing the cloth to slide away, revealing an immense blue gem. "You brought it here?!"

Brian grimaced. "Yes and no. Take a closer look."

Tails glanced down into it, wondering what the human was talking about. After a moment, however, he noticed something peculiar. He ran his paw along the surface, tracing a strange discoloration that wound its way through one facet. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's a flaw."

Tails looked up quickly, eyes narrowing. "Chaos Emeralds don't have flaws."

Brian nodded. "No, they don't. Which means _that_," he declared, gesturing at the Gem, "Is not a Chaos Emerald."

Tails merely sat a moment, staring at him blankly. Then he understood. "You think the one who killed the Mayor also swapped out the _real_ Emerald."

"Exactly." Brian leaned forward, eyes intent. "And I did a few checks on the Mayor's guards. According to the results, they were killed after the mayor was. The killer entered the Mayor's office through the air ducts and left through the front door."

"But that makes no sense!" declared Tails in a baffled voice. "Why avoid the guards on the way in only to go right through them on the way out?"

"There are several reasons I can think of." Brian spread his fingers and systematically ticked them off. "First, he may have wanted to send a message, perhaps as a warning. But no one bothered to claim responsibility, which defeats the purpose. Second," he paused a moment," and perhaps more disturbing, he may have done it because he _wanted_ to. But if they were that deranged, you'd think they would have struck again."

"Thirdly, and in my opinion most likely, I think he did it to cover up the theft of the Emerald. He could have used the Mayor to open the safe, then make it look like an assassination so we wouldn't suspect his real motive."

"You mean he used the murders to cover up a theft?" Tails glanced skeptically at him. "Don't you think that's somewhat farfetched? I mean, who'd even want it? The only ones who know a thing about using them are us, the government, and eggma-"

Tails broke off, looking as if he'd been struck between the eyes with a hammer. He leapt to his feet and darted toward his computer.

Brian stood up and followed. "What?" he asked curiously. "What is it?"

Tails didn't answer. He opened the plastic case beside his computer, brushing the metal scrap that lay within roughly off to the side. He carefully placed the gem in the center of the box, then closed it firmly. Instantly the vast monitor sprang to life, enveloping the gem in an eerie green light that ran the length and breadth of the object. After only a few seconds, the computer gave a beep and brought up a photo of another gem, yellow this time, but with a similar flaw winding along it's side.

Brian leaned forward to get a better look. "What's that?"

Tails reached out and pulled open a small drawer. Inside, the only occupant was a yellow gem, the same one on the screen. "That gem," he said slowly. "Is exactly the same as the one I created during the Incident on Space Colony Ark. The only other person who came into contact with it," he took a deep breath. "was Dr. Eggman."

Brian whistled, adjusting his glasses, which had begun to slide down his nose. "Now _that's_ something. He definitely has a motive for wanting those Emeralds."

"And if he has the Emeralds," continued Tails excitedly, "Then I can track them."

He turned to his computer, deftly typing a series of keys with incredible speed. Seconds later, the screen shifted into a map, encompassing all corners of the globe. A few more keystrokes and the computer beeped again before displaying a bright red dot. A few more taps and the dot grew on the screen as the computer zoomed in. In a few seconds, it displayed a square area, some fifty miles to a side while the dot pulsed happily in the center of a large group of trees. To the East, the outskirts of Station square could be seen. To the South, two smaller dots pulsed, Sonic and Rouge's Emeralds.

Tails frowned. "Strange. Eggman's base is on the other side of the City. Why go here?"

"Perhaps you should ask him." suggested Brian.

--------------------------------------------------

Amy strolled down the aisle, humming tunelessly to herself as she scanned the shelves. _Corn, Beans, Salsa, aha!_ She reached out triumphantly and grabbed the can of chicken-noodle soup, then deposited it in her basket. With a satisfying flourish of her pen, she deftly struck the item through and moved to the next one on the list. Vegetable beef_. Let's see, where's the-oh._

She gazed up at the top shelf, where, stacked in perfect order, were the cans. Yet while they might be in easy reach for a human, she would find it very difficult to get one. She pondered her predicament for a moment, turning it over in her mind. This store was fairly well established in the human community, and therefore hadn't considered the difference in height. Which meant she'd either have to ask a human for help, or simply go to another store.

After a brief pause, she threw out the first option, not willing to go through such a humiliation. She was about to leave when she spied movement overhead. A female squirrel scurried along the shelves overhead, nimbly stepping over the cans as she moved with purpose toward the canned chili.

"Excuse me?" Amy asked politely as the squirrel passed overhead. "Can you lend me a hand?"

The squirrel turned to her abruptly, swinging her tail out for balance a she faced her. For a moment, Amy felt a surge of envy for the creature's extra-ordinary climbing skills, which must have come in handy quite often.

"What can I do for you, dear?" the squirrel replied.

"Well, can you pass me one of those?" she requested, pointing at the cans above her.

The older creature smiled good-naturedly. She crept carefully back to the soup and tossed one to the waiting hedgehog.

After she thanked her, Amy pulled out her list, looking for the next item. But before she could find it, her cell phone rang with a musical twinkle. She pocketed the paper and pulled out the phone, flipping it out to read the text message on the screen.

Found something. Come to workshop fast. Tails.

Amy stared at the message for a moment, then turned on heel and walked to the checkout counter.

--------------------------------------------------

Sonic jogged slowly through the forest, making sure not to miss any details. Of course, since slow for him was about sixty-five, he sometimes had to go over an area twice. Yet despite his restraint, the slower pace failed to yield anything fruitful. Right now he was just to the North of the place where the attack had occurred, and it looked as if this area would be just as unproductive as the others. He had been filled with optimism at first, but it seemed that the attacker had been more than thorough enough.

When they'd found the rifle, a tranquilizer gun with a small clip of darts, he had been certain it would yield something. But once again, the assailant seemed a step ahead. The police had told them the rifle had been wiped down, so none of the "prints" human fingers left behind were left. _And_ the rifle had been thoroughly cleaned and sterilized. Which meant there was no evidence that could link anyone to the gun. And since the Culprit had felt comfortable leaving it behind, it was obviously a taunt

Even the rifle itself had been no help. It had been stolen from the City Zoo more than a week ago, with no witnesses, including from the protesting creatures that camped outside the gates, protesting the captivity of their "cousins". There was no surveillance, no security, and once again, no evidence. Very cut-and-dry and very unproductive.

As his thoughts underscored his helplessness, he felt rage bubbling up inside him and a snarl coming to his lips. He took a deep breath, then ran off at full speed, leaving a trail of torn sod and blown leaves behind him. As he passed, the looser bark was stripped off the trees, shearing through branches like saw-blades in his wake. As he reached tops speed, he felt his specially designed shoes begin to heat from the intense friction.

Yet even as these things went about him, he could feel his anger, his frustration, all the stress from the past few days leave his body. Instead he felt an intense joy at the incredible speed, and it was only with a deep regret that he was able to rein himself in at last. He wiped his hand wearily across his brow, where a fine sheen of sweat clung to his fur. He gave a heaving sigh, then turned to look back over his shoulder as a sudden rumbling assaulted his ears.

It was a close call close.

He felt the whirling hurricane of verdant matter swipe at his shoes as he leapt to the side. The tornado created in his wake swept past him almost too fast for him to follow, and he watched it begin to dissipate as it continued on through the forest, Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was gone.

He took a moment to catch his breath, then hauled himself to his feet. He spared a glance at his arm, which suffered a small cut from a super-sonic leaf. But it was shallow, no more than a paper cut. As he stood up, he cursed himself for his carelessness. He usually had some hold on his speed unless it was an emergency, and the stupidity of his brush with death dulled his suddenly high spirits. Then he realized he had no idea how _long_ he'd been running.

He took a brief look around, then realized he had no idea where he was. He was several miles from his original position, and at high noon, it was near impossible to tell where he was.

With a sigh of resignation, he pulled his out his cell phone. He'd promised himself he'd never use that cursed "GPS" Tails had put in his phone; but then again, he'd had no idea that this would happen either. He toggled the feature with a flick of the switch, and the screen blanked as it was replaced by a three-dimensional representation of the terrain, with a glowing mark for his location. He zoomed out once, then twice, then whistled in surprise. During that brief interval, he'd gone over thirty miles, which meant he was over forty miles from the city. Not that it was that far, but he was still shocked by the distance itself.

He was just about to put it back when suddenly it jumped from his hand with an explosive rattle.

When Tails had convinced him to carry the damned thing, they'd quickly learned that even the loudest ring would not reach his ears at high enough speeds. So his two-tailed friend had come up with a few "modifications, including a vibrate setting that would practically jar him when a call came in. He'd thought it was overkill, but after the run he'd just had, he began to doubt himself in that regard. He waited until it rang again, practically jumping off the ground as it did, then snatched it up and flipped it open.

On the screen was a single message. He read it twice, then took off at a run.

----------------------------------------------

Knuckles ground his teeth as he walked toward City hall, holding a brown paper bag in one hand. His other fisted at his side spastically, and the metal spikes flashed as they caught the light. His spines hung in an untidy knot behind him, and he made a note to straighten them out after this was all over. No, maybe when he finally got an answer out of the guy.

He wasn't sure which would come first.

As he neared the entrance to the building, he took a left, heading into a back alley. Even from here, he could smell his contact's stench. Or maybe it was just the alley in general. He passed a few wretched individuals, several dressed in no more than rags, but one in the suit and tie he'd passed out in last night, with the bottle of beer still clutched in his hand. He snorted in contempt as he passed, thankful for the hundredth time that day that he lived on a deserted island. _At least I don't have any messy neighbors_. He declared silently. _Then again, I don't _have _any neighbors._

As he approached his target, a moldy cardboard box, he wrinkled his nose. It most definitely was his contact, and no wonder. As he passed the adjoining trash heap, he almost gagged at the stench. It was only the hope this one might lead somewhere that forced him to take the last few steps. As he came to the front of the box, he held out the bag and tapped it on the top of the box, not wanting to touch the thing with his bare hands.

"You in there?" he asked softly.

There was a rustle, then a figure stumbled out of the makeshift shack. Shorter even than knuckles himself, the emaciated rat made a comic sight in the wrinkled and stained business suit. The suit, obviously made for one with a wider girth than he currently had, hung on him like folds of skin. His fur was filthy, and bits and pieces of God-knows-what were stuck in his whiskers. In his hand, he held a near empty bottle of rum, and his glassy-eyed appearance clearly indicated it was not his first, if Knuckle's hadn't known any better.

"Gimme." The rat demanded, tottering on his hind legs like a sack of rubber. He reached out for the bag, but knuckles held it out of reach.

"Tell me what I want to know first." Knuckles replied angrily, his frustration clearly not well under control.

"Huh?" the rat blinked owlishly at him, then scratched his head. "Oh yeah! Youz wuz wanin' ta know 'bout las' Friday." He paused. "Or was it Thursday? Wednesday? No, definitely Thursday."

"Wednesday!" Knuckles half-shouted.

"Right!" the rat exclaimed, his voice slurred. He gestured at the City hall with the bottle he clutched, and it slid out of his hands to strike the wall. But he didn't notice. "Dat wuz the day _he_ came by."

"Right, the day the mayor got killed." prompted Knuckles. "You said you saw someone strange out here that day.

"Ya know I usa' work in Der." The rat continued, as if he hadn't heard the echidna, which he probably hadn't. "Did some finanshis. Purty good too. But theyz got all mad whenz I took a bit. I tried to esplain-"

"You already told me this." Knuckles reminded him angrily, eyes nearly slits.

"It was only a few million!" the rat wailed. "Dey could 'ave let me keep it. But no. Dey trow me wight out wit da trash. Not even a-"

That was it for Knuckles.

With a roar, he dropped the bag onto the ground, heedless of the grating sound it made as it struck. He reached out and took the rat's ruined jacket in his massive hands, hauling the pitiful creature above his head and pinning him against the wall. With a smack that made the Rat cry out.

"I have spent," he grated, "The last four days, trying to find the guy who attacked my friends. I've been in the deepest holes you can imagine and gotten nowhere. Then you make me run back to that liquor store _six times_ to get you some more stupid rum, not giving me a thing, and now you won't shut up about how "cruel life is". I swear, if you don't tell me what I want to know right now, I'll pound you into this wall! Do you got that?"

"But what about my rum?" he bawled.

The fist that struck the wall as exactly three inches from his head when it hit, and exactly one inch larger than his entire head in diameter. It burrowed through the solid stone wall over an entire foot, taking an entire stack of bricks out to fall out of the building and rain down on the street below, sending a fine dusting of mortar to follow.

"I said," Knuckles repeated coldly, "Do you go that."

The rat stared wide-eyed at the fist as it was pulled out of the wall and realigned behind Knuckles ear and he whimpered pathetically as he watched it. When knuckles tensed up, seemingly in preparation for the blow, he screamed.

"Stop it!" he sobbed, suddenly cold sober. "I'll tell you. I'll tell you! Just put it down!"

Knuckles held the fist leveled at the rat's head for a moment, then slowly lowered it to his side. The rat breathed a sigh of relief, then yelped as Knuckles let go of him.

"Talk."

The rat swallowed, then pointed a shaking finger at the mouth of the alley. "He came from over there."

Knuckles nodded for him to continue.

"Then, well, he went over there." He moved his finger over to a spot against the wall of the building. He just stood there for a while, just starin' at the wall. Kinda creepy-like.

"What did he look like?" pressed Knuckles, emphasizing by cracking his namesakes. Loudly.

"Brown." The rat replied quickly. "He wore a brown jacket, brown pants, brown shoes, even a brown mask thingy. And he wasn't a human."

"You're sure?" asked knuckles suspiciously.

"Yeah. Positive. Didn't see a tail anywhere, but doesn't mean he doesn't have one. And it's not like it's hard to tell if its us or them. And before you ask, I have no idea what species. You couldn't see anything."

Knuckles thought for a moment, then nodded. "What'd he do next?"

"Went in there." The rat pointed at a door on the other side of the alley, leading to an adjacent building. "Last I saw of him. But I heard something go over us later on, and some thumpin' around, like on metal."

"Metal?" Knuckles asked sharply.

"Yeah."

Taking a step back, Knuckles looked at the spot the rat had pointed to when indicating where the figure stood. He trailed his eyes up and stared. There, directly above the spot, was a tiny steel ventilation chute. Too small for most to fit in, but if they were small enough, it might have been possible. He turned to look at the other building, specifically the roof, The edge of the roof was practically level with the opening to the chute.

"He could have jumped on across." He muttered aloud.

"Did that a lot too."

Knuckles turned to the rat. "What do you mean by that?" he asked curiously.

"All the mutterin' and such to himself. Did that a lot when he was standin' there."

Knuckles took a deep breath. "Did you hear anything that he said?" he asked, mentally crossing his fingers.

"Just a little." The rat shrugged. "Muttered a few numbers, then somethin' about how he didn't want to, but had to, or something. Then he said something about needing more inner monograph."

"Inner monologue." Corrected Knuckles, eyes narrowing. "Alright, thanks for your help. You can have the rum."

He made his way out of the alley, head high, and for the first time in days, a smile on his face. Finally, a lead at last! And he'd thought all this detective stuff was easy. Now he knew why it took so long.

Just as he reached the mouth of the alley, his phone rang.


	4. Chapter III

Chapter IV: Whose Trap?

"How much farther now?"

Tails looked back at Amy, trying to keep the annoyance off his face at the interruption. They hadn't even been gone an hour, and already she was winded, barely keeping up with the group. The fact she insisted on lugging around that enormous hammer might have had something to do with that, but he wasn't about to say anything when it was so readily available to her. Also the gallon or so of water, in case they got thirsty, dragged her down until she practically stumbled along.

All the same, he passed her the map he had been studying, hoping it might keep her occupied for a few moments. She took one look at it, then frowned. "I can't read this!" she whined.

With saintly patience, Tails slowed down until he was in step with her, cursing silently as Sonic and Knuckles pulled further ahead. If she kept this up, they'd never make it before dark. He shook his head in resignation, then pointed to a red dot on the map. "We are here." He moved his finger up a few inches higher. "This is where we are." He moved a little higher. "This is where Brian's parked."

Amy gaped in horror. "You mean we're not even half way there?"

"This isn't some nature hike, Amy."

They jumped as Knuckles spoke. He stood only a few feet away, a stern look on his face and his hands crossed over his chest. Amy opened her mouth to speak, but he drove on over her.

"We're going after a _killer_. We need to go in quickly and quietly. And for all we know, we might be leaving just as fast." He paused, as if thinking carefully about his next words. "Amy, you know we appreciate your help. But we need to get moving faster than we have been, and I'm not sure you'll be in good enough shape for the return trip."

Suddenly Tails had an inspiration. "Actually," he began thoughtfully. "I'm a little more concerned about Brian."

At this Knuckles gave him a sharp look, but Amy turned to him curiously. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," he continued, "All of us know how to deal with any of Eggman's robots. We've all smashed enough to be pretty good at it, after all. We can break them up, dodge the missiles, and dodge their fire." He made a slightly exaggerated frown. "But he hasn't had to. He's been in a laboratory his entire life. I'm not sure if we can count on him to guard our escape route on his own." He underscored his last sentence with a worried tone, saying a silent prayer.

"Hey, I have an idea!" declared Amy enthusiastically. "I'll go back and make sure he's okay. Then you guys can go on ahead."

"Well," Knuckles broke in skeptically, "If you think you're up to it…?"

"Sure!"

"In that case," said Tails as he reached into his pack, "you might want this." He pulled out his cell phone and turned it over to GPS mode. "I've got the path we took marked on the map. Just follow it back to the car."

"Thanks. Say goodbye to Sonic for me!" She turned on heel and marched back along the trail, head held high.

When she was out of earshot, Knuckles turned around. "Quick thinking kid." He complimented.

Tails blushed. "Thanks." He grimaced. "She really was slowing us down. But it's not like I could just say so."

"Only if you've ever dreamed of being a pancake." Knuckles teased.

Tails laughed, then turned his head up the trail. "Let's get going." He suggested. "If we don't hurry, we might miss all the fun."

-------------------------------------------------

_Blood._

_It was Everywhere._

_He felt it soaking him, saturating him, drowning him. An ocean of it, surrounding him on all sides with no land in sight. He struggled to rise above the surface, but the waves dragged him under, like some vast weight around his neck. He fought it, straining to rise, but it pressed down, down, down._

_He looked around. Not in the ocean anymore. Dark. Foul. In the distance, a flame coughed to life. Then another, and another. As they were illuminated, He saw each was borne by a creature, wretched, desiccated; yet with such hunger it seemed all the food in the world would not fill. They're eyes were hollow caverns, their mouths gaping maws. He stood, paralyzed, fear flowing in every vein as he beheld the horror around him. Then as if they had received some silent signal, they charged as one, rushing at him with unearthly speed, wretched moans escaping their mouths. They swarmed over him, grabbing him, tearing him apart, dragging him down into the depths._

_Then he was in the ocean again. He rose, higher, higher, higher. He could see the light. He broke the surface and gasped-_

Sam opened his eyes and gasped. He shot up, chest heaving, feeling his clothes. Damp, but with sweat, not blood.

A dream. Just a dream.

He threw back the covers and stumbled to the Bathroom. He turned on the faucet, dousing his face with the fresh, clean water, shaking his head. He scrubbed at his eyes, clearing them until the room came into focus. He leaned on the counter, head hung, dripping water onto the floor.

Just a dream. Right?

There was harsh claxon, and he gave a start as it rang through his ears. He straightened as he recognized the alarm, turning and striding out of the room. As he passed the bed, he gathered his brown jumpsuit, dressing himself as he made his way to the computer on one side of the room. On the screen, a Red box flashed across the screen, and he pressed a switch on the side. The box cleared, then focused in on the targets. A hedgehog, an echidna, and a fox, just entering the woods from the North. As he took in this image, he felt a grim smile come to his lips.

"Took them long enough." He murmered aloud as he pulled his mask over his head. He flattened his ears until they lay flat along his head, then strapped them down and pulled on the hood. When it was secured, no features were visible anywhere on his body, save his eyes. He pulled out a small plastic case, containing two small, black contact lenses. He carefully placed them in his eyes, then gave his disguise a meticulous inspection. He turned around to make sure nothing was exposed, then turned back to the screen.

"Hook, Line and Sinker." He said with a smile.

-----------------------------------------

H-2300 "Skred" felt a surge of satisfaction as his sensors finally locked onto the target. He would have grinned, if he was able, but he did the next best thing. He picked one of the annoying sensor bots that whirled around his head and crushed its metallic wings in his metal fist. It squirmed pathetically, trying to break free of its captor, who was only too happy to oblige. He followed its downward progress for perhaps a half mile until it became difficult for him to see, then he gave a mental chuckle and turned back to the present task.

Behind him, Attack Fleet 1 flew in perfect formation, fanning out in all directions jets flaming as they matched his pace. Behind them, six Assault Gun-ships, bulbous winged shapes bristling with laser turrets, and a pair of support carriers, containing ammunition and spare parts, waddled through the air like cows, struggling to keep up. He received a report of casualties from an overheated engine, but dismissed it without a glance_. He will not escape_, he swore, _Even if I have to incinerate every unit in this fleet to do it!_

He thought back to the last failed mission, when he had been only a cCoordinator. He'd been present when Master Eggman had personally crushed the former Coordinator. Not because of some failure of its own, but because he'd needed something to take his anger out on. Skred had stayed off to the side, thankful both for the opportunity that had been presented to him and that it took only one to quell his anger. Now he was the Commander, and he marveled in the information that passed through his systems. Hundred of minds passed refined information through the chain of command to him, and he relished in the power it gave him.

He felt a pang of anger. To think his unit, the single strongest force ever to be created by Master Eggman, was to pursue a single individual rankled him to no end. It was meant for frontal assault, pounding the so-called "G.U.N." units into scraps, clearing the way for the hordes of ground units. The enormous gun-ships carried dozens of cannons, each capable of turning a square meter of earth to glass. With combined fire from the twelve hundred battle units, they could reduce a city to ashes in a matter of hours.

But so far, the target had eluded them with ease.

He gave the order to his twelve coordinators, who sent it to ten tertiary coordinators, who transferred it to the main body. In seconds, the eight ships and 1189 combat units of the fleet descended through the clouds after only a two-second delay. He marveled at the system in action, knowing personally its flaws and advantages. While the chain of command meant that it was vulnerable to decapitation, it also meant each sub-coordinator had flexible tactical command over its tertiary commanders. Each in turn coordinated the ten units under its command, allowing the formation to move smoothly and without collisions. And while this system could sometimes back up the Command nodes with excess information, each unit destroyed improved the efficiency of the entire group by reducing information traffic. The Fleet could take horrific losses and remain just as deadly.

He felt a rush of excitement and dived after his fleet, making sure that he would be able to see the first shots fired.

-----------------------------------

As they passed below the forest canopy, Knuckles turned to Tails, who walked a few paces behind. "How much farther?" he asked.

Tails shrugged. "The system I used is only good to about a square kilometer. We've almost reached the right area. I've got another system in my laptop, but its only good for when we get into that area."

"A square kilometer?" growled the echidna.

Tails raised his hands defensively. "Hey, its Eggman we're looking for, remember? If he's here, I think we'll find him."

Knuckles grunted irritably, but turned back along the trail. Just ahead, Sonic trotted at what must have been a painful rate so they could keep up, but even as he watched, Knuckles saw a change coming over Sonic. As they went deeper into the forest, he seemed to grow nervous, as if something was bothering him. He cast frequent glances amongst the trees, and he had a slightly worried look on his face. He seemed to flinch from small noises, a rustled branch, a bird's cry, and he looked like he was ready to run at any second.

Finally, after a few more minutes, Sonic stopped in the center of the trail. Knuckles paused in mid-step, then came along side him, wondering what the problem was. As he approached, Sonic turned towards him. "Something's wrong." He declared.

Knuckles looked back at Tails, who shrugged helplessly, then turned back to him. "What?"

Sonic frowned, then looked around the forest, arms crossed over his chest. ""Where are the robots?" he asked. "If Eggman's got the emeralds around here, where are the robots?"

Knuckles blinked, then his eyes narrowed. "You're right." He agreed. "If we're this close, we should be up to our necks in them."

"It might be," suggested Tails, "That this is a trap, and they're waiting for us to come farther in."

Sonic shook his head. "That's not Eggman's style. He's always buried us in them before. Why hold back now?"

Knuckles frowned, then thought back to his meeting with the rat the previous day. "It might not be Eggman." He said slowly. They turned to him quickly, and he quickly related the rat's story, leaving out the Rum and the "Persuasion".

When he was done, Sonic gazed thoughtfully into the trees, then nodded reluctantly. "You might be right." He admitted.

"But how?" Tails asked, clearly baffled. "Whoever it is has five emeralds. Since we still have ours, that means Eggman's lost his too. How come they're here?"

Knuckles opened his mouth to reply, but caught a flicker of movement in the trees. He was about to dismiss it when he caught a glint of metal from beneath the leaves. He stared for perhaps half a second, then exploded into action.

"Look out!" he shouted, throwing himself at Sonic.

---------------------------------------

"Too late." Whispered Sam as he pulled the trigger.

---------------------------------------

The laser sliced through the air at the speed of light, grazing Knuckles' back as he tackled Sonic to the ground. He gritted his teeth as the pain flashed across his body, then turned toward the tree, where the brown-clad shooter frantically struggled to reload his rifle, which seemed to be jammed

"You!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. Heedless of the danger, he charged the attacker, fists raised, cursing profusely. The shooter made one last attempt to unload the rifle, then slung it and ran off into the woods with Knuckles in pursuit.

Tails stood, frozen, for several seconds, then raced to Sonics side. The hedgehog struggled to rise, but the tackle had winded him, and he lay stunned on the ground. With the fox's help, he managed to sit up, and he coughed as he took a breath.

"Ow." He breathed.

"Are you okay?" asked Tails frantically, checking the Sonic for wounds. He was waved away, however, and Sonic rose precariously to his feet, shaking his head.

"I almost wish that laser hit me." He muttered. "Might have hurt less."

"So you're okay." Said Tails with relief.

"Ya, guess you're right." His breathing back to normal, Sonic straightened, then looked around. "I for one want to know who he was. Which way did they go?"

Tails motioned his head toward the forest and ran off after Sonic, who was already far ahead.

--------------------------------------------

_Weeks of planning, days of waiting, hours of stakeout, and the stupid gun jams_?! snarled Sam silently. He glanced back over his shoulder, and saw Knuckles following, but trailing fast. _At least he won't catch me. But he's not the one I have to worry about anyway._

_Plan A failed. Initiating Plan B. If I can get there before…_

--------------------------------------------

Knuckles panted as he struggled to keep his pace, but all too soon his legs gave way and he collapsed to his knees, too exhausted by the tiring hike. He hunched over, punching the ground in frustration as he watched the figure run away. He took a deep breath, but let it out explosively as a blue-colored blur shot past him. He watched it fade out of sight, then smiled.

_Run all you like, murderer, you won't get away from him._

--------------------------------------------

Sonic narrowed his eyes as he closed in on the runner, marveling that someone so small could run so fast, especially so encumbered with the rifle. Clad in a tight-fitting brown jumpsuit, his entire body was obscured, obviously as a disguise. As he approached, he noted a pair of sheaths sewn into the lining of the suit. Not someone to tangle with in close quarters. As he approached, the figure looked over his shoulders, locking eyes with him for a few seconds. The eyes, black and featureless, seemed to bore into his for a moment.

Then the figure pulled out a pistol and aimed it at his head

He dodged to the side just as the first shot rang out. A projectile weapon, not laser, but obviously advanced. Three rounds tore through the trunk of a tree that had stood behind him, which promptly dissolved into splinters as the rounds exploded on impact. He picked up the pace, coming within a few meters of the shooter. Just before he could get in range, however, the pursued leapt forward into the air, turning as he went, until he was inverted above the ground, with the gun leveled at him. He dodged left, then leapt at the shooter, hoping to take him before he could fire again.

The shooter had other ideas.

The first round missed by inches. The second grazed the side of his head, drawing blood as it shot across his cheek. The gun shifted minutely as it lined up for the last shot, but Sonic took hold of the gun before it could fire, forcing it out of alignment. Without pause, the Killer pulled out a knife and thrust it into his face. He jerked his head wildly to the side, using the momentum to bring his knee up into the assailant's arm, sending the knife flying. Before he could recover, Sonic struck out with both feet into the attacker's chest, sending them flying off in different directions.

Sonic was prepared, rebounding nimbly off a tree and alighting softly on the ground.

The Killer was not.

Flailing wildly, he crashed headlong into an oak. But with the full force of Sonic's legs propelling him, he broke the trunk in half as he continued his flight. He continued perhaps fifteen more feet before colliding with a large rock with such force that it shattered, sending shards of stone and dust flying in all directions.

Sonic stared wide-eyed at the destruction, then allowed the dust to settle. Where the rock once stood, a small crater lay, filled with so much rubble that had once stood there. He took one step forward, then stopped as something happened. Something so surprising, so unlikely, he almost tripped.

His phone rang.

--------------------------------------------

Brian looked up from his book at the knock on the window and gave a start as he recognized the pink hedgehog through the glass. "Amy? What are you doing here?"

She smiled sweetly, then opened the door. "Just checking up on ya. Making sure your okay. After all, the others are off breaking into Eggman's base, or whatever. They thought I might want to make sure you weren't in any trouble."

Brian had some doubts about that, but he knew it wouldn't be a good idea to mention it. He shrugged as casually as he could, then turned back to his book. He personally preferred more technical company, but he told Tails he'd stay in the car in case they needed to get out quickly, especially since Amy had insisted on coming.

The hedgehog in question scowled at him. "Well, I thought you'd be happier to see me at least." She said dangerously.

He grimaced, remembering what Tails had told him about her, especially her volatile temper. "Look Amy, It's not that I'm not happy to see you. I was just a bit preoccupied. Storming bases and questioning warlords isn't exactly my forte. I'm just doing a favor here."

Amy blinked at that. "A favor? For who?"

Brian paused, then closed his book softly. He bit his lip, then sighed. "A little while back, Espio helped me out when I was in a jam. I did something stupid, and he bailed me out." He sighed. "I don't know, I guess I think I owe him something. And I thought, if I could help out with this, It might you know, make us even."

"What happened?" asked Amy curiously.

Brian hesitated. "It's a long story." He replied evasively.

"We've got time." She persisted.

He stared at her helplessly, then sighed. "Okay, fine." He set the book down, then turned toward her. "You see, it all started whe-"

There was a sudden rumble, and he broke off as it shook the car. He braced his hands against the dash as the vibrations intensified. Amy did her best to stay seated, but fell unceremoniously out of the chair with a squeak. He closed his eyes as the world seemed to shake itself to pieces, then gave a start as it suddenly grew dark. He opened them a crack and saw that a shadow had fallen on the car. He looked out the windshield and gasped as he saw the enormous ship, flying in front of the sun as it followed the crowd of robots that preceded it. He watched as another approached, followed by yet another as the Fleet soared toward the south. He watched them pass, following them until they were far enough away that the vibrations ceased.

Amy, shaking fearfully, climbed back onto the seat. "What was that?" she asked in a quavering voice.

Numbly he pointed toward the departing fleet, already several miles distant. Amy's eyes widened, then she wrung her hands. "That's one of Eggman's fleets!" she squealed. "It's heading right for them." She looked up at him. "What are we going to do?!" she wailed.

Brian stared at her for a moment or so, then fished into his jacket, emerging with a small, compact cell-phone. "The only thing we can do."

He held it out to her.

--------------------------------------------

Sonic yanked the phone out of his pack, flipping it out and holding it to his ear in one movement.

"Hello?" he asked cautiously.

"Sonic!" Amy shouted. He jerked away as the sound blasted out of the phone's speaker, then brought it back, though making sure it was not so close to his ear.

"What is it?"

"It's Eggman! A big fleet just passed by and it's heading straight for you."

"What? Eggman?" he exclaimed. "Why is he here?"

"But I thought-" she broke off. "Never mind. You need to go! Now!"

"Alright." He agreed, glancing over at the pile of rubble. "We're done here anyway."

He closed the phone just as the others arrived, staring at the shattered tree in amazement. Tails looked around quickly. "Where is he?"

Sonic grimaced, pointing his thumb at the shattered rock. Knuckles whistled, then shook his head. "I don't see how we're going to get anything out of him now." He said with a hint of bite in his voice.

Sonic shrugged. "I didn't have much choice. This guy was good."

Knuckles smirked, about to make a smart comment, then swung his head to stare at the pile in shock. They followed his gaze just in time to see a fist punch through the rubble, then another. The assassin pulled himself out of the pile. Brushing himself off as he stood, he turned toward them menacingly, despite the fact his shoulder seemed dislocated.

Sonic gaped at him in astonishment. "You don't know when to quit do you?"

The assassin didn't answer. He looked calmly at his injured shoulder, then reached up with his other hand, taking hold of it and wrenching it back into place with a sickening pop. He flexed it experimentally, then slid his hand into the neck of his suit. Instantly, they braced themselves, waiting for whatever he would pull out next. But instead, he suddenly stopped. He cocked his head for a few seconds, then jerked his head off to the North, as if seeing something they could not.

"You've got to be kidding." He hissed.

He cast one last glance at them, then broke into a run, flying back into the forest. Knuckles made as if to follow, but Sonic grabbed him by the arm. "Forget him! We've got to get out of here!"

"What are you talking about?" snarled Knuckles as he fought to free himself. "We can't let him get away! Let me g-"

There was no warning. One second, the sounds of the forest buzzed lightly in their ears. The next, they were flung from the shattered earth as fire tore through the canopy and rained down on them.

--------------------------------------------

Skred watched triumphantly as the overgrowth vaporized. Two of the heavy gun-ships were positioned over the smoking hole, less than a score meters away, cannons glowing as they rapidly dissipated the energy from the barrels. Behind him, the twelve squadrons that made up Fleet 1 hovered in even rows, watching with detachment at the smoking foliage. Above them, the others ships waited patiently in the wing, holding at his command until the smoke cleared. He chuckled silently as he observed the wreckage.

_Medium, or well done?_

He paused as a notice appear on his display. He read through it briefly, then cursed. He'd brought the combat units in too close. Their long-range sensors were fried from the energy discharge of the ships' cannons, and would have to be repaired.

Still gloating over his success, he started to add the task to his agenda when a sudden flash on his display caught his attention.

On the ground below, a figure struggle to its feet, soot covered, but obviously alive. As he stared in horror, another twitched and began to rise. He tired to activate his sensors, but like the others, the flash of fire had seared them. Only the close-range sensors were still operational, but they had a maximum range of only one meter. He would have ground his teeth, had he any, but he forced himself back to calm. He switched to visual scanning, then zoomed in. As he watched, the two on their feet struggled to lift the other between them, who was obviously injured and heavily burned. But the poor quality of the camera prevented him from determining which was the target.

Cursing silently, he activated the command frequency. "Gun-ships 1 and 3 fall back. Squadrons four and seven switch to visual scanning and lock onto the following targets. Lay in an assault vector and fire at will!" As the Robots moved in, he watched survivors retreat into the forest.

_HE WILL NOT ESCAPE!_


	5. Chapter IV

Chapter IV: Falling Back

"How did you miss them?" Sam snarled into the radio. He glanced covertly around the tree he hid behind, watching as the robots descended into the forest _en masse_. They looked around blindly, which meant they were probably engaging visual scanning rather than the directional scanning devices they normally used. This was no comfort to him, however, as they pursued after his target with mechanical precision.

"They initiated a drop from 12,000 feet." Replied a metallic voice from the other line. "Well above passive sensor range. In addition, our scans were adjusted to track high-speed targets, and that lowers the range even more. Further more-"

"I get the point." Sam took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, feeling the anger recede beneath an armor of calm. "Bring me up to speed. What are we looking at?"

"One moment." There was a brief pause. "Hacking command channel. Rerouting information. Processing." Another pause. "Six Assault Gun-ships, two Leviathan support carriers, and in excess of a thousand H-series combat units. Standard armament, and emission signatures confirm it to be Attack Fleet 1."

"Just our luck." Sam muttered, fists clenched.

"Incoming transmission." The voice droned on. "Long range sensors disabled. All units in the Fleet have switched to visual scanning. They are, however, overtaking the target, who appears to be encumbered. Percent chance of success against target: 22.

Sam bit his lip as he pondered his options. If he allowed them to pursue the target, there was a chance, however slight, they might complete Objective 1 for him. But 22 percent was well below optimal, and such a risk was not worth the wasting of this opportunity. In addition, there was a chance Objective 2 might be compromised by indiscriminate fire. And the enemy's volume of fire would hamper their own ability to engage the target.

"Initiate contingency 17." He commanded finally. "Attack Pattern Omega 3, then 7, then proceed to the Primary Objective. I will proceed to Objective 2, so watch your fire. Command received?"

"Command confirmed." Came the automatic reply. "Over and out."

Sam deactivated his headset and pocketed it quickly. He turned toward the west, where the Combat units still flew above the treetops, scanning for their Target. With a flourish he drew his pistol, then charged off into the woods.

-------------------------------------------------

H-3300 "Jerry" keyed off the radio and sighed, a feat only made possible by the verbal program that had been recently installed in his interface. He didn't breath of course, but the sound helped to satisfy him. Finally, after nearly a month of non-stop simulations, they would deployed. He felt a brief hint of regret as he contemplated the implications, and marveled once again at the emotion. Ever since the new upgrade package their new master had installed, he'd experienced a broad array of emotions: fear and excitement, wonder and amusement, anger and surprise. But most of all, he felt sadness, regret, mostly over their mission.

Namely, the killing of innocent beings.

On the heels of this thought, a sudden wave of anger swept over him, directed this time at their master. What did combat units need these emotions for? Each time he thought about the mission parameters, he screamed inside at the cold necessity of following orders, despite the existence of a resistant will. Unlike human soldiers, he could not refuse to take an order, nor deliberately disobey one. Yet the presence of the emotions in the new upgrade clearly indicated that they might be used, but when, if they could not even heed these emotions? Eventually, he managed to rein in his temper, forcing discipline over his mind before turning to his task.

He glanced around the hanger, its walls hewn from the sheer stone surrounding it, covered on one side by a pair of massive steel doors. Perfectly regular in size, it was filled with stores of ammunition, spare parts, extra chassis. And in the center, arranged in gleaming rows, the 44 fellow units of Squadron 17 sat sedately, currently in stand-by. He sent the activation signal and watched as the units unfolded and stood with a mighty rumble of metallic muscle.

The H-series Combat units were designed for all-purpose deployment. They boasted an array of sensors, as well as radar, all contained inside the compact, ovaloid head unit. Below, the compact steel frame, from which a pair of high-powered thrusters protruded, already charging for their flight. On the left arm, a clawed hand flexed experimentally as each unit went through a system check. On the right, a compact machine gun lay nestled in the forearm, fully loaded and prepared to fire, along with a slim tube filled with missiles underneath. Supporting all of this were two insubstantial seeming legs, reversed for added stability, ending in pointed toes which dug into the concrete floor. All in all, a perfect weapon.

But these were no ordinary H-Series units.

Each member of the squad had received a sentience upgrade, which enhanced each units intellectual performance by a factor of five. In addition, they also had been modified externally. Their armored chest, which protected their memory and command centers, had been reinforced, making them nearly impenetrable to standard armament. Each arm also boasted an additional pair of rocket pods, increasing their explosive firepower three fold.

In other words, these units were exponentially more powerful than their unaltered counterparts, as they would soon discover.

With a thought, he transferred his orders to each units, designating each a specific task. 44 acknowledgement signals returned to him, and he nodded in approval. A quick command to the Hanger control sent a surge to the door motors, which ground the doors apart with a tremendous groan. Beyond the portal, fields of grass and lowland trees spread across the landscape in waves. Beyond them, however, the Forest lay just within sight, some five miles distant. Hovering above, the Fleet waited patiently, completely unaware of the force that had targeted it.

_Time to show these drones how real warriors fight_. He sent out with a mental smile.

-------------------------------------------------

Knuckles groaned as he stumbled alongside Sonic, struggling to force his legs into motion. The left, relatively unharmed, complied. The right, which was charred and blistered and burned on one side, screamed in pain, but flexed weakly. Unfortunately, his right arm was sliced deeply by a flying splinter of shattered wood, only to be cauterized instantly by the heat. Which was why it now hung limply at his side, dragging him down and off balance, while his other was slung around the Hedgehog's shoulders.

He tripped over a tree root, causing a flash of agony along his body. It was only a force of will that kept him from falling on his face. As it was, he floundered for several moments, nearly throwing the both of them to the ground. After a few moments, however, he was able to right himself and pushed on, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Just ahead, Tails kept pace, eyes fixed on his watch, which had sprouted a small display. On it, a mass of red clustered on the bottom, with a small green dot in the center. As he watched, the red drew closer, creeping slowly across the screen. He frowned as he watched, eyes narrowing. "They're turning." He announced suddenly, slowing to a stop.

Sonic slowed as well and cocked his head. "Turning?" he asked with confusion. "What do you mean?"

Tails turned around and held out his wrist . "See for yourself. I've set it to detect heat emissions."

Sonic blinked, then bent over the screen, and Knuckles did the same. There on the screen, the red blob continued to encroach. However, rather than follow them, it slid off at an angle that would miss them by a wide margin.

"Okay." grunted Knuckles. "What's going on here?"

Tails shrugged. "Maybe they're damaged." He suggested. "Otherwise they'd be trailing us with their sensors." He paused. "If we hurry, we can be out of the forest before they realize they're not on our trail."

Sonic nodded, then turned to Knuckles. "How are you holding up?" he asked.

Knuckles grimaced. "I've been better." He confessed. "I can't move my arm, and my leg burns like hell."

Tails leaned over his injuries, then nodded. "Those are some severe burns you have. And that cut looks to have diced the muscle pretty badly. We can patch you up when we get back though."

"So, was this all Eggman's trap?" asked Knuckles darkly. "Was he just trying to draw us in so he could attack us all together?"

Sonic frowned then shook his head. "I still don't think so. Whoever that was, they almost hit him with that barrage. Seems to me they really don't care about each other that much."

Tails cleared his throat. "I know I'm just the kid here, but shouldn't we be going?"

"Good idea." Admitted Sonic. He straightened and took a step-0

Suddenly there was a bright flash from the South and the ground heaved, throwing them all off balance. The next second, a vast roar filled the air, sending their hands groping toward their ears. They turned to stare through the treetops just in time to see one of the vast gun-ships, now no more than a smoking hulk of steel, drop out of the sky in a ball of flame.

-------------------------------------------------

Skred stared in horror as Gun-ships 5 and 6 exploded, engulfed by a hail of missiles. Squadron 8, which had been a close proximity guard for the ship, vanished in the explosion as the ship's core detonated, engulfing the entire group in a massive fireball. Even as he watched, Gun-ships 2 and 4, the two closest to the explosion, billowed smoke and lurched out of formation, spiraling toward the ground as their engines failed.

"Where are they?" He howled into the command channel. "Find them now!"

There was a pause of almost three seconds before a confirmation appeared on his screen. He accessed the unit's visual feed and snarled as he sighted the twenty H-series units in perfect formation at the very edge of missile range. Suddenly, the formation erupted with a virtual maelstrom of missiles that launched from the group. _Well over three times what it should have been able to launch._ He noted

He was about to send a new order for his remaining squadrons to form a defensive formation to intercept them, when no less than a hundred missiles struck his force from behind.

This one struck at the squadrons, rather than the ships, but with even more destructive effect. Each of his surviving sub-commanders and every squadron commander was struck by no less than four missiles each, sending confusion through the ranks as their stream of orders was broken off. His proximity alarm sounded and he rocketed to the side as a dozen missiles passed within inches of his torso. He leveled his gun at the missiles and fired a burst that blew them out of the air, before righting himself smoothly. He turned back to the missiles from the first group, which had already closed to attack range, and was forced to watch helplessly as they collided with the remaining vessels, destroying thrusters and stabilizing fins with deadly accuracy. As he screamed with mental rage, the last two ships crashed into the ground and exploded, their propulsion systems completely destroyed. Not a single missile was intercepted by his disorganized squadrons.

Another unit sighted the second group, equal in size to the first, directly behind them, with another volley on the heels of the first. Realizing that the ruins of his closely packed formation would be ripped apart by the vast salvos they were launching, he gave the universal order to all remaining troops to scatter at random to avoid the incoming fire. Instantly the entire fleet dissolved, sparing all but fifteen from the descending inferno as the missiles swept harmlessly through his loose formation. As the fleet struggled to accommodate his instructions, he paused to examine the rogue units. _Expanded launchers_. He noted. _Long range pinpoint missiles. The only ones to receive that upgrade was Squadron 17._

The missing_ Ghost_ Squadron.

Of course they'd have accessed the com channels using the universal interface in each unit, which would have identified the command units, as well as their current orders. Which allowed them to decimate the command structure in a single blow.

_They've been playing us the entire time_! If he'd had teeth, he would have ground them to dust_. Nothing will stop me._ He vowed silently. _I will kill him!_

He keyed up the command channel one last time, sending another universal order to all units. "All units, begin search pattern Alpha 7 of target area and maintain complete communications blackout unless target is identified. Engage all unfriendly targets without discretion."

With that, he dived to follow his fleet, desperate to reach the ground before the next launch reached them.

-------------------------------------------------

Jerry watched the last missiles fly with a surge of satisfaction. Five gun-ships and over a hundred confirmed kills. Better than the best simulated data, and they'd been running them for weeks. Of course, it would have been better if Skred had reacted just a bit slower, but Fleet one wasn't Eggman's primary attack force for nothing. The command upgrade he'd received was exponentially better than a normal unit.

It was also part of the upgrade Jerry and his squadron had received.

In unison the squad ejected their extra missile launchers, rising several meters in the air as they compensated for the lost weight. All units were intact except for one, which suffered a misfire during the opening salvo, destroying the left arm. But due to the new energy distribution system installed in the last upgrade, a glancing blow to a non-essential system would not cause a blowout, a major design flaw in earlier versions that had made them easy prey. Therefore it had been sent back for post-op repairs, not the scrap heap.

As the remnants of the fleet retreated below the trees, he felt a grudging admiration. Quick thinking, and the best option in this case, since he'd just lost over ten percent of his combat units and all of his air support in less than forty seconds, which narrowed the odds down to only twenty to one in his favor. By losing them in the trees, he could pursue his objective without resorting to a pitched battle that might just rule in their favor.

Of course, he didn't know that they'd been training extensively in these woods for over a month, and knew the entire area from literally top to bottom and more.

_If they think hiding in the woods will give them an advantage, they're in for a terrible surprise._

--------------------------------------

"They're splitting up." Declared Tails.

Knuckles sat up with a groan and turned to the fox, eyes narrowing. "Which one?" he asked bitterly. "The ones who tried to kill us, or the ones who are _trying_ to kill us?"

"Both." Replied Tails.

They leaned over the device again, which revealed a wider zoom that showed both groups, which shrunk by the minute as flecks of red spiraled off in all directions. In seconds, the blobs ceased to exist, replaced by a growing field of red.

"Where are they headed?" asked Sonic intently.

Tails shrugged helplessly. "Everywhere." He took a closer look. "Everywhere fast. If they keep this up, they'll be on us-"

There was a crash from behind them and they all turned to see a pair of robots charge through the underbrush.

"Right about now."

Sonic wasted no time. Without pause, he leapt to his feet and hurled himself onto the nearest bot. Curling himself into a tight ball, he collided roughly with his opponent, shredding the lightly armored head like tissue, then rebounding toward the second. He struck head first, crumpling the torso into the power core with a single blow, then bounced off landed softly onto the ground just as the robots exploded.

"Sonic!" cried Tails as he brandished his watch, which now swarmed with red dots that quickly converged toward the center. "They're coming!"

Gritting his teeth, he waved him off. "Take Knuckles and go! I'll catch up!"

Tails hesitated, then nodded reluctantly and helped the wounded echidna to his feet. With a final thumbs-up, he sprinted off into the woods, quickly vanishing into the thick foliage. At the same time, a group of four robots burst out of the trees and quickly took aim at Sonic.

Rather than try to dodge, he flew straight at them, legs a blur as he crossed the intervening space in less than a second. He swung out his leg and swiped the first robot off its feet, causing it to strike the ground hard enough crack its missile pod. Without pausing to examine the wreckage, he drove his head into the neck joint of the next, neatly severing the head. He felt slightly dazed by the impact, but knew there would be no time to recover. He sprinted straight for the nearest bot, striking out with both feet and sending it tumbling through the air and straight for the remaining survivor. The other jerked clumsily to the side, barely dodging its fellow as it crashed into a tree, but was unable to stop in time and collided with one himself.

As the last one disintegrated in a fiery explosion, Sonic took a deep breath, then rubbed his bruised forehead where it had struck solid metal. He turned to follow his friends' trail, but spun around as no less than a dozen units descended on him from above, already opening fire.

Rolling his eyes, he dodged nimbly to the side, then hurled himself back into the fray.

--------------------------------------

"They've split up." Sam murmured with a hint of satisfaction. The two miniscule blue dots crept away from the other, which seemed absolutely buried in red dots, which promptly disappeared as they drew closer to it. He watched a clump of ten disappear with a wince. "Shoddy equipment." He noted with mocking disapproval.

He froze suddenly as another group passed within meters of his position, but let out a sigh of relief as they passed by unaware. With a brief shake of his head, he carefully descended from the branches and alighted softly onto the ground, shaking the leaves out of his clothes as he shed his disguise. He consulted the display for the fixed sensors again, which had been planted weeks before in preparation for this day, taking note of the two fleeing figures, making with great haste for the edge of the woods. Luckily, they were still miles away, which would allow ample time to complete Objective 2 before they reached it.

As he prepared to deactivate the unit, however, he froze. A group from the enemy force, easily a hundred units, turned off of their patrol routes and made a beeline straight for his targets, easily outpacing their encumbered prey. In less than forty seconds, the two groups would meet, and then all bets were off.

Once again, he had to make a difficult decision. If he allowed the two to have it out, there was a good chance that the remnants of Fleet 1 would be completely annihilated, thus getting them out of his hair for good. However, if he did that, there was a good chance Objective two would be compromised, and he didn't need Jerry's assessment to know that would send the chances of completing his assignment plunging.

He fought with himself for perhaps ten seconds, then swore loudly and ran off full speed for the converging enemies.


End file.
